Valentine's Day for Romantically Impaired Wizards
by Nefertiri's Handmaiden
Summary: Harry hates Valentine's Day. Luckily for him, so does Murphy. Rated for implication of adult activities, but not anything even remotely graphic. Bookverse futurefic. No spoilers.


Valentine's Day for the Romantically Impaired Wizard

Nefertiri's Handmaiden

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Dresden or Karrin Murphy, the books or the TV series. I don't own anything.

Note: This is my first Dresden fic, and I completely blame it on shadowsanddreams. It's all her fault. She got me thinking and then I couldn't help but write it. Anyway, let me know what you think, so I can decide whether or not to continue or stop while I'm ahead.

Murphy-Dresdencenrtic. Futurefic. Fluffy romancy. Rated for some implication of adult situations, but nothing even remotely graphic.

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Valentine's Day. Official holiday of love-struck saps worldwide. A day of excessive roses, expensive chocolate, and disgusting displays of public affection.

I hate Valentine's Day. And so does Murphy.

But I'm not stupid enough to let our first one as a couple go by without doing anything for her. I know that she'd be secretly upset, and I don't want to screw up our very new relationship this early in the game.

I agonized for weeks beforehand about what to do for her. It couldn't be too cliché - she'd really hate that. But it couldn't be too subtle or she'd never realize that I was recognizing the day. So no fancy dinner or roses and no randomly stopping by the station.

Then it came to me.

Damn, I'm good.

----

Valentine's day rolled around, and I was ready. Murphy left my bed - did I tell you I'm also a stud? - at about 6:30 on February 14th to make her 8:00 shift at the station. I kissed her goodbye at the door and held it just long enough that her eyes were slightly glazed when I released her - see? Stud. - and then herded her out the door.

Excellent. My evil, subtly romantic plan was underway.

I got to work right away, calling the florist and batting down his overbearing attempt to sell me fifty dollar roses and instead ordered some remarkably cheap carnations in various colors for about five bucks. At about 10:30 I moved onto the next stage of my plan, firing up my wood-burning stove and slapping a steak onto it. I then utilized my amazing culinary skills - and by that I mean I poured some garlic salt on there - and proceeded to prepare the perfect steak, whipping up some mashed potatoes to go with it. At 11:30 I finished sealing the steak and potatoes into a couple of Tupperware containers, grabbed a Coke, and loaded myself into the Blue Beetle. I stopped at the florist and a corner store and then headed off to CDP HQ.

I appeared in the bullpen at 12:00 sharp, and Stallings caught my eye with a grin. I made myself scarce, and he approached her cubicle, booming, "Hey, Lieutenant! Got a minute? I got something down in Evidence I need to talk to you about."

I heard Murphy sigh from inside her cubicle. "Can it wait? I'm just about to eat lunch."

"Come on, boss. It'll only take a few minutes."

She grumbled, but rose and followed Stallings out the far exit toward the back staircase that would take them to Evidence.

I jumped into action. Stallings had only guaranteed me five minutes, so I need to work fast. I slipped into Murphy's cubicle, set my supplies down on her desk, and got to work.

First, I packed away the sandwich Murphy had made for herself that morning. Then I opened the bottle of Coke and poured it's contents into a glass. I then slipped the carnations into the now beverage-free Coke bottle. I opened up the Tupperware and performed a quick warming spell on the steak and potatoes, and neatly set up the knife, fork, and napkin I'd packed. Finally, I rooted around Murphy's desk until I found her Post-It notes. I pulled it away from the stack, scribbled, "Murphy, You're kickass. Love, Harry." on it, and slapped it onto the Hershey bar I'd bought at the corner store. Another twenty seconds, and I was back on the way to my car, the perfect not-too-romantic surprise awaiting Murphy on her desk.

Damn, I'm good.

----

I spent the afternoon at my office. I ate Murphy's sandwich - which was actually pretty good - then paid some bills and got a start on my taxes.

Even wizards have to pay taxes.

I locked up about 4:45, half-completed tax forms sitting on my desk - are garlic cloves deductable as a work expense? -, and headed out to the Beetle. Murphy wasn't back yet when I got home, so I ordered a pizza and then took Mouse for a walk. I got back only moments before pizza guy arrived, and paid him, tipping generously. Hey, what can I say? I was in a good mood. Even after the taxes.

It so happened then that when Murphy opened the door at 6:20 I was just reaching into the icebox for some Cokes to go with our pizza. It appeared, however, that she wasn't hungry because as soon as she spotted me by the table she threw herself into my arms and pulled me down for a kiss that left my head spinning when she pulled away.

"Thanks for lunch."

I cleared my throat and tried to clear my mind. "Uh- you're welcome."

She smirked at me in triumph, and I decided the pizza could wait. I started pulling her toward the bedroom and to my intense pleasure she didn't resist.

Because, like I said, I'm a stud.

----

"Damn, you're good."

Murphy's comment came in between gasps as we caught our breaths in my bed. She was sprawled over my chest and both of us were sweaty.

I couldn't stop a prideful chuckle. "You're welcome."

She let out a feminine giggle that she reserved only for times like this. I feel honored to be so trusted that she'd let loose like that with me. To me, it is a deeper sign of trust than the physical intimacy we've been enjoying together.

We laid like that for a few moments more before she raised herself up above me, bracing herself with one hand on my chest. I gazed up at her with a happy-dopey smile, and her eyes turned tender and pretty. "Thanks really for lunch. It was perfect."

My grin widened as I responded. "Not too disgustingly-cheesy boyfriend, not too stone-cold-asshole boyfriend. The perfect Valentine's Day gift for two people who hate Valentine's Day." She nodded and graced my lips with another slow kiss. When she pulled away she was grinning wickedly and I regarded her with apprehension. "What?"

"I don't hate everything about Valentine's Day."

"Yeah? What do you like about it?"

"The shameless, excessive sex."

I was shocked into silence for a second. Then I burst into laughter and rolled over on top of her. "That's my favorite part, too."


End file.
